GTA V: Stories from Los Santos
by LordVulpericBlack112
Summary: A new face emerges from the underworld of Los Santos. A small time criminal reaches the lime light around the same time Michel, Franklin, and Trevor begin their rain of terror in Los Santos. Watch as she rises through the ranks of the Family and makes a name for herself. WARNING: CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. A/N: Hey! I'm back! Also, this story contains a TON of OC's, so bear w/ me!


GTA V: Stories from Los Santos.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the right to GTA V or any other GTA mentioned in this story. I also don't own any songs or movie references mentioned. I DO own my Original Characters, so don't screw with them.**

Ch. 1: Blood Stains.

(Vespucci Boulevard Apartments. Apartment 311.)

[8:12am, Friday February 13th.]

My small apartment was dirty. It was always dirty. The living room floors were a few shades of brown and green mixed together and there were spots of carpet missing here and there. The wallpaper is torn and, in spots, hanging from the wall, or in some cases, missing all together. The small kitchenettes linoleum floor was deformed and, in spots, sagging. The counters have small chunks missing and cracked, broken, corners.

The bathroom had seen better days, but was in good shape overall. My bedroom is the cleanest place in my apartment. Having grown tired of sleeping in filth, I took it upon myself to fix the wallpaper and the floor in the bedroom. On the walls various posters and knickknacks sit on shelves and are glued to the wall.

Snapping out of my daydream, I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were tired from the life I forced myself to live. My chestnut colored hair had lost some of its vitality and shine from years of letting myself be beat up and shot at. My body was taunt and athletic, but, had been put through a lot of abuse. My skin, just a shade darker than 'not tan' was still healthy but I could just make out the lines of early aging… I was a 26 year old healthy and active female, but I felt older than 40 somedays.

Shaking my head, I walked over to my bed and kneeled down to reach under the frame. I pulled out the 9mm pistol and sat it on my messy bed before reaching down again, this time coming up with two clips for the previously mentioned pistol. Standing, I put the 9mm in the waistband of my black chincos behind my back. The two clips went in my back left pocket. I picking up a hoodie that sat on the bed and threw it over my head. I let the hem of the oversized hoodie fall over the pistol and clips in my back pocket.

Stepping over to the small wooden dresser by the door to the living room. Picking up the knife and sheath, I bent down and lifted my right pants leg and strapped the sheath to my leg. Putting my pants leg down, then shaking my leg a few times, I then picked up the bronze aviator sunglasses from the dresser and put them on. Looking into the mirror, I gave myself a smirk.

Walking out of my bed room, I looked over to the coffee table where my rainbow colored bong sat. I contemplated taking a hit, but then decided against it, knowing I needed to be sober for the job I was going to do today. It wouldn't do to be high on the job.

In the kitchen I opened the old, beat up, refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. Cracking it open, I drank down a good fifth before screwing the plastic cap back on. Setting the bottle down, I opened a cabinet, pulling out a "Frosted Chips" cereal box. Noticing how light it was, I opened the box only to find it almost empty.

"Damn. I guess I'll have to go to the store later."

Tossing the box into the trash bin, I closed the cabinet. Picking up the water, I proceeded to head for the door, picking up the keys on the small kitchen table. I unlocked the door and headed out into the dingy hallway. Turning around on my heel, I quickly locked the door before heading for the stairs to the main entrance.

Stepping outside the door, I made sure it closed and that the cheap magnetic lock was engaged. I gave the customary wave to the old Asian lady that seemed to always be sweeping the side walk. Going to the Maze Bank ATM, I withdrew $60 and checked my account. I had just over 2K left in my account… that account anyway.

Sighing, I put the $60 in two twenties, one ten, one five, and five ones into my front right pocket. Walking to the alley short-cut to the Gas-N-Go on the corner down the street, I passed the old man sitting on a folded up cardboard box holding a sign that read "The ultimate sin is greed" and gave him a halfhearted nod of my head. The old man just looked at me with glassy eyes that could see, but only looked through you.

Emerging from the alley way, I walked across the cracked cement of the Gas-N-Go and walked through the door. The cahier, Mr. Chang, waved to me and motioned to come here.

"Good morning, Abbigale! How are you today?" His Asian accent was familiar and his bright brown eyes were inviting.

I walked over to him and gave a forced smile. "I'm fine Mr. Chang. How's the business?"

"Good. Good. Just slow so far today. Would you like your usual?"

"Yeah. Coffee, black, two packs of sweetener please. Would you throw a pack of Red-Wood's in to? I'm low on cigs." I leaned on the counter.

"Of course. Anything else?" He asked, turning away to make my coffee. I never noticed the man with a mask walk through the door until it was too late.

"No-." I was shoved to the side. The man wearing a ski mask and black gloves shoved a gun in my face.

"You, on the floor! And you! All the money in the register, now!" He demanded, pushing me to the floor. I tried to reach for my gun, but the son of a bitch cold cocked me.

Acting like I was hurt, I curled up into a ball and put my hands over my head. I couldn't believe this! This ass-hole just had to come in and ruin my morning coffee run? Unforgivable… He was a dead man walking. I swear he was gonna pay for robbing Mr. Chang and hitting me over the head with his gun.

Mr. Chang quickly dropped what he was doing and opened the cash register. He promptly started filling a to-go bag with the cash. The man, growing evermore impatient started to yell obscenities and racial slurs at Mr. Chang. The bag now full, he tossed it to the thief who grabbed it and ran through the door.

I watched him get into a beat up car and take off, tires screeching on the asphalt. I got the license plate number and memorized it… I would deal with him later, but first I had to deal with the police and go do the job Gerald had for me.

After insuring Mr. Chang was ok and filling out a police statement, I hailed a Taxi and made my way to Gerald's place to link up with my partner for the job I was going to do today.

(Gerald's apartment)

[8:47am]

I knocked on the door of number 12, the only apartment where noise could be heard blasting through the walls. After a few moments, the door opened and Gerald appeared, his face as stoic as ever.

"Yo. You ready?" He asked, as if it didn't even matter.

"As I'll ever be… Where's your guy?" I asked, looking past him into his apartment.

"No show, dawg. You're on your own for this one."

I sighed. I knew this one would be a bull shit job as well. Gerald's jobs had a tendency to be screwed up that way.

"Alright then. Who/what am I killing/stealing today?" I asked, resigned to my fate.

He stepped back inside his apartment for a moment before coming back outside with a vanilla packet in his hand. He handed it to me. I began to open it, but he waved me off.

"Not here. Take the yellow Junker out from to the slums. Everything you need is in the trunk… Make sure you get the product, or don't come back at all." He stepped back into his apartment and shut the door, but not before he tossed me a set of car keys.

I sighed, turned on my heels, and left. I knew he cared, but Gerald sure could be an ass hole…

[Slums, 9:13am]

I parked the Junker just outside the slums outer limits. Picking up the packet, I opened it and pulled out the photos and paper within. Three faces with names, heights, weight, and short descriptions greeted my eyes. Below the photos were their last know addresses, favorite places to hang out, and what he wanted done to them.

On a scrap sheet of paper was the address for the stash house. It was right down the street from where my car was parked.

Memorizing the faces, I put the packet with the photos under my seat and got out of the car. I walked around to the trunk and popped it open. I gave a shrill whistle as my eyes looked over what Gerald gave me to help complete this job.

I quickly shredded my hoodie and put on the bullet proof tactical vest on over my tank-top. I then put the provided black wind breaker over the vest and left it unzipped. I took the leg holster with the 40 cal. Silenced Glock and strapped it to my right leg. Reaching further into the trunk, I pulled out the pump-action shotgun out, put the strap around my shoulder and let it hand down under my right arm pit. Smirking, I took off my sunglasses and reached back into the trunk to pull out the white hockey mask sitting at the bottom.

Sliding it in place and tightening the straps, I was ready to go. I kept my gun in my waistband, just in case I needed it. I shut the trunk and started up the street.

Reaching the back wall of the stash house, I made sure the Glock and shotgun were loaded and ready to go. Climbing over a wall that separated the alley from the stash houses back yard, I landed as silently as I could before sneaking up to the back glass sliding door with Glock in hand.

I checked the door. It was locked. I checked the first floor windows and found them locked as well. It seemed that I would have to go in through the front door.

Going around to the front, I checked the area and quickly ran up the stairs and hoped no Ballas were about. Getting to the front door, I pressed myself against the wall beside the door way and knocked loudly three times.

"What in the hell do you want-." The guy who threw open the door started to say before I cold cocked him in the face with the Glock. He fell to the ground and started to shout, but I put three round in his chest before he could. His warm blood splattered on my pants and on the windbreaker.

Looking up, a guy was sitting on the couch counting a stack of cash while two others sat at the kitchen table and were measuring out increments of coke. The guy sitting at the couch looked up in alarm and dropped the cash to reach for an Uzi on the coffee table in front of him. A bullet through his head put a stop to that. His brain matter splattered across the wall behind him as his body slumped forward.

"Holy shi-!"

The guys at the table dropped what they were doing and also tried to reach for their guns but my fast trigger work dropped them before they could. They fell out of their chairs to the floor, their blood pooling on the floor.

I held still for a moment, listening for any more sounds of people in the house. The stairs by the kitchen from the bottom floor creaked as someone walked up them. I holstered the Glock and raised the Shotgun and braced it against my shoulder. Whoever was walking up the stairs was about to have a bad day.

"What the hell is all that racket up in here-."

"*BOOM!*"

The purple wearing Balla was thrown back down the stairs. His blood covered the walls and stairs leading down to the first floor/basement. I cocked the shotgun "Chuh-Chink", ejecting the used shell and loading a new one.

Waiting a moment, I again listened for any movement or sound in the small house. Not hearing any, I closed the front door and cleared the house as quickly as I could.

Walking back to the kitchen, I found a bag that wasn't covered in blood and put all the product in it. Then I walked over to the coffee table and threw all the cash into the bag as well. I checked the bodies of the dead Ballas and took photos of the listed targets for conformation from Gerald. Picking up the Uzi, I turned it over a few times in my hands before shrugging and threw it into the bag as well.

I exited through the back sliding doors and climbed back over the wall. I ran back to the car and opened the trunk. I threw the bag, the mask, and the shotgun into the trunk before making my way back to Gerald's apartment to give him the product and report a successful mission.

[Gerald's Apartment, 9:59am]

I had already taken off the windbreaker and vest before walking up to Gerald's door with the bag full of product and money. I knocked on his door and waited for him to come to it. A few moments later, a stoic faced Gerald greeted me with a stereotypical, "You got the product?"

I smirked and nodded. "And a little more."

He raised an eye brow in questioning before motioning me inside. "Take a seat." He said, motioning towards the couch and kitchen table. "Put the bag on the table."

I walked over and set the bag on the kitchen table. I then waked over to the fridge in the small kitchen. Before I opened it, I asked, "It okay if I have a beer?"

Gerald, now sitting at the table, looked over to me and said, "Help Yo-self, dawg. You earned it." He started to pull out the coke and cash, putting it on the table. He took the Uzi out of the bag and gave it a look before shrugging and throwing it on the table.

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and then walked over to the kitchen table. I pulled out my phone and showed his the pictures of the people in the apartment. He nodded, then went back to work counting the cash and weighing the coke.

I sat on the couch and drunk my beer while he did his thing. The coke, 17 packages total, sat on one side of the table while to money sat on the other. I had downed over half my beer before Gerald announced her was done.

"How did we do, boss?" I asked in a semi-joking manner.

Gerald let a small smile on his face before saying, "_You_ did _very_ good. About $32,000 in straight up cash and another $100,000 in pure product. Add on the bounties you collected today, your cut will be about $45,000 if not $50,000. You straight up killed some fuckers who had been givin' the family some trouble."

I let a whistle lose. "Alright. What do you want me to do with the car and the guns?"

"Burn the car. Keep the guns and the vest if you want them. Think of them as compliments for a job done well."

I smiled at him, then downed the rest of my beer. "When can I expect my cut?" I asked, tossing the empty bottle into the rubbish bin by the door.

"Anytime this weekend, and if not, then by Monday or Tuesday… you put some major hurt on the Ballas, girl. You may be cut out for the family yet. What account should I put it in?" He walked over to the door and opened it for me.

"Thanks. And put it in my Maze account." I said, walking through Gerald's front door. I picked up the Uzi on the way to the door.

"Alright. See 'ues later, homie." Gerald patted me on the arm.

"See you soon, Ger." I started to walk away.

"Now keep your mouth shut about me, you hear?" He said, smirking.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll keep my mouth shut!" I yelled back before he closed his door.

[Abbi's Apartment, 11:34am]

After stashing the guns and the vest behind a false wall in the back of my small closet, I drove the car down to the drain way and torched it. I then dropped by an Ammunation on the way back and picked up some shells for the shotgun, a few boxes of ammo for the Glock, and a few boxes of ammo for the Uzi. I paid in cash as to avoid any paper trail.

After I arrived back at my apartment, I took a long and hot shower to wash the stress away. The job today, a simple snatch, grab, and kill turned out to be some big-time shit. I mean, 50K for a low-key job that should have been only 2K payout? I'm glad the fucker that I was supposed to do it with bailed on me. Just means more hard cash for me.

What I was worried about was that it would put me on the map. I wasn't ready for any high-key jobs. The biggest job I had done before this one was a repo for Simeon… Speaking of Simeon, maybe he could run the plates for the car of the fucker who robbed Mr. Chang earlier.

Wrapping the towel around my shoulders, I sat down on my bed and grabbed my cell off the nightstand. Pulling up the contacts, I went down to the S section and clicked on Simeon's number. I put the phone up to my ear and waited for Simeon to pick up.

"_*Ring, ring. Ring, Riing. Ring-. Hello? This is Simeon."_

"Hey Sim. It's Abbigale."

"_Ah! Hello my girl! What can Uncle Simeon do for you? Want a repo gig?_"

"No Sim. I need to ask you for a favor."

"_What can I do for you then? Anything for my favorite niece!_" I rolled my eyes at his 'favorite niece' bullshit.

"I need you to run a license plate number. Can you do that?"

"_Of course I can! What's the number?_"

"Lima, Sierra, Charlie One Seven Three Four Delta."

"_Got it. Give me a minuet._"

The line went silent for a moment before typing could be heard of the line. A "ah-ha!" sounded over the line before the phone was picked back up.

"_I got an address. You ready?_"

I picked up a pen and a note pad that sat on my night stand. "Yeah, I'm ready Uncle Sim." I silently chuckled to myself at calling him that.

"_Alright, here it is. The address is…_"

[Jamestown Street. Apartment building 11780. Apartment 204, 12:19pm]

I had caught a ride from a friend/associate of mine, named Landon, to the fucks apartment near the docks. The guy lived in a shitty part of town that stank of dirty sea water and dead fish. It was no wonder why this guy was knocking off gas stations and corner stores.

His apartment was on the second story of an old, broken down, building across the street form a fish processing facility. After I got out of the car, I didn't bother to put my mask on until I got to his door. Apartment four on the second floor.

I stood outside his apartment and contemplated if I should knock first or just bust down the door. Picking the second option, I put a round in the chamber on the silenced Glock and prepared to kick the door in. Stepping back, I took the best running start I could in the cramped hallway and put my foot right next to the door knob. A resounding crack and jolt later, the door was burst open.

The apartment's interior, much like the outside, was a complete shit hole. To say that this apartment was worse off than mine was saying a lot. The walls were cracked and the paint was peeling off. The kitchenette by the door was missing spots in the floor and the appliances didn't even look like they worked at all. The floor of the apartment was stained and had spots missing everywhere. The ceiling was sagging and also had spots missing from it as well.

A man was laying in the couch. He shot out of his laying position and stood, back to the wall, facing me. His eyes showed his surprise and fear.

"What the hell!? What do you want?!"

I moved closer to him, gun raised and trained on his head.

"Where's the money?!" I shouted at him.

"What money!?" He yelled back.

"The money you stole from the Gas-N-Go earlier today! Where is it?!"

"I don't have no fuckin' money!" He shouted, leaning forward.

I walked closer to him and put the silencer against his forehead. "You have three seconds to tell me where the money is before I blow your brains out against the wall!"

He cowered, and then screamed, "Alright! Alright! It's in the couch cushions!"

I backed up towards the couch and kneeled down. Sticking my left hand under the cushions and searched for a moment. My hand meet with a plastic bag. I pulled it out and carefully glanced in the bag without taking my eyes of the man. Sure enough, it was the money and the bag from the Gas-N-Go Mr. Chang owned.

Throwing the bag on the decrepit coffee table in front of the couch, I stood back up and focused my attention on the man. "I'm going to ask you one time and only once. Did you hold up the Gas-N-Go this morning?"

"Yes. I held it up-."

The silencer on my gun worked perfectly and only a small sound was emitted from the end of the silencer. The guy's brain matter splattered against the wall he was backed up against and his head smacked against the wall as well. His body then slumped against wall and slid down into a seated position.

I picked up the warm shell casing and slid it into my pocket before I rummaged through the apartment looking for anything else of value. Finding nothing but the gun he used to hold up Mr. Chang's Gas-N-Go, I grabbed the bag of Mr. Chang's money and silently left the apartment, not even bothering to close the door.

Once in the hallway, I made sure no one was looking before I took off my mask. I put the Glock on my waistband after taking off the silencer and putting it in my back right pocket.

Walking down the stairs to the outside, I opened the door of the waiting black sports car. Sitting in the driver seat was Landon, who had waited for me. He looked over and smiled at me when I got into the car. He started the car and pulled away from the sidewalk as soon as I had buckled up.

"So," He started. "You work things out?"

I looked down at the bag of Mr. Chang's cash and smiled back at Landon. "Yeah. We worked things out."

[Mr. Chang's Gas-N-Go, minutes later]

Mr. Chang's surprised face made my day. He had thanked me and bowed to me many times before finally letting me go. It seems that I managed to recover about 80% of the money stolen that morning. The other 20% was missing (as I hadn't taken any from the bag). After saying my good byes, I slipped Mr. Chang the gun I had taken from the fuck's apartment.

He looked at me with a questioning look and I told him it was a gift in case it happened again. He smiled and thanked me. I nodded and smiled back before taking my leave.

All in all, it was a successful, and profitable, day…

**END CHAPTER ONE.**

**NEXT CHAPTER COMING SOMETIME!**

**So, I revamped the chapter a bit and added a few words and corrected a couple of mistakes. Hope you enjoy it. :) **


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